


Light Years (Echoes)

by milestofu



Category: Subnautica (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Masturbation, Mindfuck, Other, Past Relationship(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milestofu/pseuds/milestofu
Summary: Robin's only human and Al-An helps alleviate her frustration.





	Light Years (Echoes)

**Author's Note:**

> I have zero shame, and this is self-indulgent filth involving one (1) excited bean and one (1) socially inept alien. I headcanon Robin as a lesbian that's low-key _super into aliens_ and Al-An as non-binary. There's mentioning of a past relationship Robin was in with an unnamed original female character but otherwise this is focused on Robin and Al-An. It's rated explicit to be safe but it's mostly for the last couple of paragraphs.
> 
> Title based on "Light Years (feat. Nikki Flores)" by The Midnight.

Robin would like to say she doesn't know how she got herself into this situation, but she does, and she isn't proud of it, either. She's thirty-seven, and while her libido isn't what it used to be, it's still there, alive and well. She's lying in bed, her wetsuit folded neatly on top of a nearby table and stopping her from shoving a hand between her legs is her own hesitation and the nervous flutter of her heart behind her ribs at Al-An's suggestion they could touch her instead—simulate themselves touching her—seeing as she hasn't been able to work up the courage to do it herself.

She should hate how much she's considering it.

(She doesn't.)

At first, she thought she could pretend they weren't there even though they are, and just… get it over with to satisfy the craving, but she hasn't been able to go any further than undressing and making herself comfortable, which isn't very far. With a sigh, she throws an arm over her eyes; it's too weird to imagine—beyond strange, actually, and she can't believe Al-An would offer to do such a thing. She tells herself they're probably just tired of her self-inflicted agonizing, but now that the idea is there, her curiosity is piqued.

It's been so long since someone's touched Robin, and she's abstained from touching herself since the whole Al-An forcefully downloaded into her head thing, and it's these moments she finds herself missing her ex and the ease they were intimate. Her ex was a beautiful woman, wonderful and kind, but they wanted different things out of life, which was okay, until it wasn't.

Her ex wished to settle down, start a family, and adopt a few kids; Robin yearned to explore the stars, and although their breakup was amicable, their contact these days has tapered off into brief messages with months stretched in-between. Robin misses the closeness they shared and thinks it's awfully selfish of her to miss her ex's touch more than any of her ex's other redeeming qualities; however, her ex knew the right buttons to press to leave her gasping and shaking, and it's easy to miss.

Something inside her throbs at the thought of Al-An making her feel the same.

(It trembles but does not break.)

Her face burns, and as much as she wants to deny it, something about Al-An draws her in, makes her wonder countless "what-ifs," and it'd be dishonest of her if she said she hadn't, in moments of loneliness, imagined what it'd be like if instead of Al-An being inside her head, they were in a form she could touch, or hold, or speak to face-to-face, or face-to…whatever Al-An would've had, if they weren't a left behind consciousness, and a remnant of what they once were.

Uncovering her eyes, she blinks up at the ceiling, and contemplates.

"Couldn't we… I don't know, skip all of this if you temporarily shut down or something?" Robin asks because at the end of the day her entire problem stems directly from the lack of privacy. It's a hurdle she hasn't been able to jump over. "I'd really appreciate it if you could," she adds for good measure.

"It is not that simple," Al-An replies and Robin isn't surprised; the closest they've come to shutting down has been hibernating, having only happened once before, and she's pretty sure it was an accident. "If you let me help you, we can then get back to our objective."

Robin doesn't know when " _the_ objective" became " _our_ objective," but she isn't going to question it. If spending more time with her is turning Al-An into more of a team player then so be it—this, however, is crossing so many boundaries, many of which she isn't sure she's comfortable with.

"I cannot do it," Robin says, more so to convince herself.

"I do not understand. You have expressed frustration at your inability to satiate your… carnal desires," Al-An says and Robin regrets ever letting it come to this. She should've squeezed her legs together and ignored it. "The sooner it is solved—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, alright?" Robin really wants them to stop talking, and thankfully they do. She's quiet for a while, lets the silence surround her, suffocate her almost, and then, "I cannot do it," she reaffirms.

Al-An doesn't respond and Robin supposes that's it. She's still horribly turned on, wants nothing more than to get off, but there are some things she can't overcome. She shifts, slings her legs over the side of the bed, and is reaching for her folded wetsuit when there's the faintest brush of fingers on her arm, featherlight and almost imperceptible; it's enough to make her jerk away, and her eyes to grow wide.

"Although primitive, the human brain is capable of many things, Robin Goodall," Al-An tells her and Robin knows it's never a good sign when they use her full name. "It is full of many sensory systems, all working together with the nervous system, and if, as you have referred to it, 'the right buttons are pressed,' are capable of creating what you would call a desirable effect."

Instead of the barely there feeling of fingers, there's an entire palm cupping the inside of Robin's thigh, heavy and warm. Her entire body shudders, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she looks to where the hand absolutely should be but isn't—there's not even an impression on her skin, and as quickly as the sensation had appeared, it disappears.

She thinks of Al-An, and how they're apparently able to make her feel things that aren't there, and although the realization is alarming, there's an excitement building, threatening to overwhelm her, drown her as her breathing quickens, and—

(The something from before shatters.)

"You really think you could do it?" Robin asks because she's never been good at keeping her mouth shut; honestly, she shouldn't be considering doing this, but here she is, knowing full well Sam can and would _kill_ her if she were to find out—it's only breaking half a dozen Alterra protocols, after all.

"I would not have suggested it if I thought otherwise," is Al-An's response.

And really, what's another broken protocol to Robin when she's already broken so many?

"How is this going to work?" Robin asks since not only is she curious, she also hasn't the faintest clue. "Are you going to mess around in my head? That's kind of invasive, you know," she says.

"Relaxing would be beneficial," Al-An says and it's a complete non-answer. Robin shakes her head but moves anyway, scooting back so she's lying down again, and tries to ignore the butterflies and their pesky flapping wings which have taken up residence in her stomach.

Robin… isn't sure where to go from here. Her arms are at her sides, and it's awkward, and she _definitely_ isn't relaxed, but she doesn't know what else to do with them that wouldn't succeed in making this stranger than it already is. She raises an arm, her hand coming to a rest near her navel.

"Should I… touch myself?"

"Unnecessary."

Then, Robin feels it—two hands on her thighs, pushing them apart, and the sensation is less firm than before, and in the absence of any actual pressure or force, she complies and slowly spreads her legs. Her cunt throbs, anticipation leaving her antsy, and finds she doesn't care if it's necessary or not as she reaches down, fingers brushing against her clit and _oh_ , this is what she's been needing this entire time.

She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and doesn't notice the hands are no longer on her thighs until there are two fingers pressing into her. She's already wet, the slide is easy with no resistance, and she gasps, her hips lifting. It's slow, almost agonizing as the fingers ease deeper and deeper, and then start to thrust in and out of her steadily.

"Oh my God," Robin breathes, rubbing her clit with more urgency because she can feel the peak already beginning to build. She turns her head, the side of her face burrowing into the pillow, her breaths coming out in quick pants, and memories come rushing back to her: her ex's hands on her hips; her ex's lips pressing to the swell of her breasts; her ex's voice coaxing her off the ledge and into free fall.

And then the fingers aren't fingers anymore, but something larger and thicker, curving upward into her and filling her so much it almost burns and it's exactly how she loves it to feel. She moans, her toes and fingers curling, and she opens her eyes, looks down because she can't help herself, and where she expects to see a strap-on attached to the soft curves of familiar feminine hips, there's nothing but empty air.

It reminds her this isn't her ex fucking her—no, this is Al-An who's making her feel this way, and it's too much to handle and she's moaning their name as she comes, her back arching and bending like a bow, and her entire body shakes and trembles and—

"Hibernating," Al-An's voice sounds in her head.

It takes some time for the words to register, and when they do, she laughs.

"I do believe that's the equivalent of falling asleep immediately after sex," Robin says with a smile and is well aware Al-An isn't going to hear her. "Your bedside manner could use a little work," she says and doesn't mind—not really.


End file.
